The Adventures of Joan and Randy, Super-Heroes
by n. bjelica
Summary: What might have happened if Xander hadn't stepped on that crystal right away? (Post Tabula Rasa/quasi-AU)


**TITLE:**
The Continuing Adventures of Joan and Randy, Super-Heroes

**STATUS:**
Completed 25 November 2001

**AUTHOR:**
n. bjelica 

**EMAIL:**
n_bjelica@hotmail.com 

**FEEDBACK:**
Yes, please. Email to n_bjelica@hotmail.com. 

**CLASSIFICATION:**
Quasi-AU/post-ep silliness, B/S UST, angst. 

**RATING:**
PG-13 (language) 

**SPOILERS:**
Season Six up through and including Tabula Rasa. 

**SUMMARY:**
What might have happened if Xander hadn't stepped on that crystal right away? 

**DISTRIBUTION:**
Available at http://www.angelfire.com/weird/bjelica/ and FanFiction.Net. Please email me if you're interested in archiving my fic elsewhere, I'll be stunned speechless. 

**DISCLAIMERS:**
All characters, locations, and such contained herein are the property of Joss Whedon and his band of merry men. Not for to sue the nice fanfic author! 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**
I think this is my first completed story with an actual plot! (Lame though it is.) 

* * *

"I kill your kind." Joan said pointedly, and stared at Randy, who was pinned under her.

"And I bite yours." He sounded defiant.

Working together, they dispatched the attacking vampires in short order. They were left with only a shark-headed guy who quickly reassured Randy that he thought he was good for the kittens or spikes or whatever it was he was after, and took off.

Joan regarded Randy silently. He broke the silence first.

"Well, what else do you suppose there is around here for fun?" He offered her a hand up, which she accepted, and he hauled her to her feet. 

She dusted herself off. "I suppose that depends on your definition of fun," she snapped. She struck off down the street, towards the industrial end of town. "Whatever it is we do, it's probably this way."

Randy watched her hips as she walked down the street. "Oh, I think I know why I'm a good guy," he muttered. "And it's not for the gold watch and pension plan." Louder, "Hey, Joan, wait up!" He jogged to meet her, matched his stride to hers, and tried to start up a conversation. "Why're you so sure that the bad guys are this way?"

"The bad guys are always at the grimy end of town, with the factories and docks and stuff. Don't you watch movies?" She stumbled when the heel of her boot caught on a crack in the sidewalk, twisting her ankle slightly. "Dammit!" 

Randy caught her elbow before she crashed into the cement, pulling her close enough that he could smell her shampoo. "You're sort of a klutz, for a super hero."

Joan looked affronted, and tugged her arm out of his grasp to stomp off slightly ahead of him. "I am not! And if I am, I'm sure it's only because I had my memories wiped by some unknown evil adversary. Who we have got to find, because I'm getting kind of sleepy but I have no idea where I sleep at night." She continued walking down the street, sweeping her gaze back and forth across the street for signs of anything suspicious. Anything at all. "Or if I sleep at night. Maybe I'm, ni--uh, insomniac? A little help here? Sleep during the day, awake at night?"

"Nocturnal," he supplied absently, focused on her swaying walk again. "And I think that's my gig. You've probably got some sort of secret identity to keep up. Busy college student by day, able to leap tall SUVs in a single bound by night, that sort of thing."

"Great. I bet I never get to sleep," she groused. "Good guy equals no sleep. And no social life. Probably why my sidekicks are magic store owners and defanged vampires, I don't get to meet any normal people." She kicked a wooden fence post irritably and looked surprised when it broke off. "Oops."

The neighborhood had gradually shifted as they walked, turning from residential to business district and now, the Sunnydale industrial district loomed ahead, dark streets and blind alleys providing a perfect habitat for the town's darker denizens. Providing ambience, rats ran across the road into the storm drain at the corner. Joan shivered. "Ew. Just once I'd like to meet a bad guy who had a cool hideout, like Dr. Evil in the first Austin Powers." Randy looked blank. "You know, some sort of cool boardroom looking place. Without that shrieking German chick though." She glanced back at Randy and groaned. "You really don't watch any movies, do you? You don't have any idea what I'm talking about." She shook her head. "Sad. We have got to get you some culture, stat."

"Joan, look." Randy grabbed her hand and pulled her behind a pile of wooden pallets, pointing at a building ahead where shady-looking guys were loading up an anonymous flatbed truck with wooden crates. "Wonder what they're doing this time of night." He wrinkled his nose. "I can smell something."

Joan shrugged off his hand and said, "Who cares? I'm not getting a evil vibe from them. I got an evil vibe from those guys earlier. So I think I know a little bit about this sort of thing, or at least I usually do. They're probably just blue collar guys trying to get some overtime." She resumed walking down the street.

"If you say so," Randy said doubtfully, and followed her, eyes, as always, glued to her rear.

Yellow eyes followed the two of them from passenger seat of the truck. "Slayer," it hissed menacingly.

* * *

Later, they returned to the Magic Box, where they found Rupert and Anya snuggled cosily next to each other, poring over a dusty leather-bound volume. 

"Look here, Rupie. 'Reverses magical interference with one's memories.'" Anya quoted from the tome. "Oh, but no, it requires virgin's blood. I don't think I saw that on the inventory sheet."

"Yes, quite," Rupert mumbled. "Doubt that anything requiring blood of a virgin sacrifice is something we should be stumbling around with, at least in our current states of, well, unlearnedness." He removed his glasses and began to polish them with his handkerchief. He put them back on and looked up as the two "super heroes" approached. "Oh, you've returned. Any luck dispatching those angry fellows?"

"Tons." Joan grinned at him. "It was no contest. I kicked their sorry butts from one end of town to the other." Randy cleared his throat. "Okay, *we* kicked their sorry butts." She pulled out a chair from the table and flopped down in it. "Guess what else? Randy's a vampire."

"Oh, dear lord!" Rupert jumped to his feet and pushed Anya behind him protectively.

"No, it's okay," Randy put in. "I'm with the forces of good, fighting to vanquish evil and all that. Ask Joan. I'm a white hat." He smiled mischievously. "A vampire with a *soul*. So, don't get your knickers in a twist."

Anya poked her head out from behind Rupert and frowned. "I don't think that's possible. It says right there in Rupie's book that vampires are, by definition, soulless evil demons."

"Th-that's true," Rupert confirmed, adjusting his glasses again. "But while researching, I did read a portion of a book which contained some records pertaining to 'the vampire with a soul,' and his relationship with what it referred to as the 'vampire slayer.' Which must be, I suppose, you, Joan."

"'Slayer,'" she said, testing the syllables on her tongue. "'Joan, the Vampire Slayer.' I like that. I wonder if I have a costume? I bet it's black leather. Like Catwoman."

Randy looked at her and grinned lasciviously. "I hope so."

Joan batted a hand at him. "You're a pervert." She looked back at Rupert suspiciously. "What relationship with the vampire with a soul? We're talking strictly coworkers here, right?"

"No, ah, I'm afraid not." Rupert stepped away from Anya and pulled a smaller book towards him. "It's right here. The Slayer and the ensouled vampire were in love. But a terrible thing happened, it's not clear what, and caused him to lose his soul, freeing a demon of legendary evil. The group's sorceress -- that must be you, dear -- was able to cast some sort of spell that reinstated the soul, and the two of them now fight side by side, unable to be together because of his, Randy's, magical encumbrance. Tragic, really." His eyes were sad and he patted Joan on the arm. "I'm sorry that I only have bad news for you."

Joan looked upset. "You mean, I found my true love but because of some bizarre magical event, we have to be just friends? This sucks!" She got up from the chair and started pacing the sales floor.

Randy, on the other hand, sat down next to Rupert and sighed heavily. "Are you sure? Not some other good-guy vampire and his hero girlfriend that's talking about, then?"

"Well, no, I'm not sure," Rupert said hesitantly. "I mean, it didn't mention names and, at any rate, we don't even know Joan's real name. But it seemed coincident enough that we probably oughtn't take the chance. The text doesn't come right out and say it, of course, but it seems that the event which caused the vampire to lose his soul was something of a, ah." He cleared his throat. "An intimate nature. And it implied that if that were to happen again, the same events would come to pass again as well."

"Oh." His meaning dawned on Randy. "*Oh*. Well. That's a different spin on things."

"Indeed." Rupert rose from the table and crossed the room to a tea kettle on a hotplate. "Tea, anyone?"

Anya said plaintively, "I'm the team sorceress? But all I know how to do is create bunnies!"

* * *

Alex found a small corridor in the sewer and ducked into it, gesturing for the trio of girls to follow him into it and run. He ran behind them, in hopes that if one of the vampires were to catch up to them, eating him would distract them long enough so the others could get away.

"Alex! Look!" Dawn had gotten far enough ahead of them that she'd found an open manhole ahead, with a metal ladder set into the sewer tunnel walls, and had climbed halfway up. "We can get out here. It should be light soon. The vampires can't follow us if we're in sunlight." She climbed to the top. Willow and Tara followed. Alex stayed at the base of the ladder until they were safely up, watching for pursuers. Once the three of them were in the relative safety of the street overhead, he began to climb.

Just as he reached for the top rung, he heard splashing footsteps. "Hurry!" Dawn whispered. He grasped the lip of the manhole opening and pulled himself out, with the mother of all pullups. He threw himself to the side and Dawn pushed the cover back in place, metal grating on asphalt. 

The four of them ran for cover, but the only hiding spot in view seemed to be a factory with a loaded truck standing at the loading dock. Since there were workers standing around, idly smoking cigarettes or talking and obviously on break, the four of them ran towards the factory. 

"Please! You've got to hide us," Willow begged the first person she saw. "There are some guys chasing us. Can we hide in your building until they're gone?"

The worker looked bemused, but nodded. "Sure, the door's right there." He pointed, and they ran for it.

Alex threw open the door and held it for the three girls, before entering and closing it firmly behind him. He was the last, therefore, to notice what they already had: The factory was filled with an assembly of vampires, easily fifty or more of them. One or two of them snarled menacingly and approached the humans.

"Enough!" The voice echoed eerily within the hollow steel-sided building, and the crowd hushed. One vampire stepped out of the crowd, his outfit, a snappy pinstripe suit, clearly setting him as the leader. "Who might you be, ducks?" He smiled at them, fangs belying the friendly words.

One of the vampires spoke up. "I know them, boss. They're friends of the Slayer. One of 'em's her sister."

The leader grinned jovially. "Really! What a lucky coincidence. We were just getting ready to implement our little plan to kill the Slayer. How convenient of you to show up. You'll make lovely bait."

Dawn fainted.

* * *

Back at the Magic Box, Joan had stopped pacing and was now slumped, sulkily, in a beanbag in the corner, reading a thick book on magic spells. Every so often she'd mutter something too quietly for the rest of them to hear, but it usually sounded slightly whiny.

Randy approached her quietly. "I thought you might like a cup of tea, love." He held it out, and she accepted it. She looked up at him, and he crouched next to her. "Any luck with the reading?"

"No." She slammed the cover shut. "This just sucks. I'm Action Girl, I should be out fighting, not reading. And where are the rest of those guys? Shouldn't they be back here by now?"

He stroked her hand reassuringly, and she looked down at his hand. "Do you think it's true," she asked plaintively. "Do you think that we're some sort of star-crossed lovers, destined to always be in love but never able to be together?" 

He clasped her hand in his. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I know that I love you, though, because I know it the same way I know the sky is blue and the ocean is deep. I know that I love you so much it would take an army to tear me away from you. Even if I can't be with you physically, I need you the way you need air and water. I'm in love with you, Joan."

Joan lifted her eyes to meet his and sniffled. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

He leaned forward and folded her into a hug, patting her on the back. She leaned up and kissed him softly. "We should research." She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw some suspicious shininess in his eyes as Randy blinked a couple of times, rapidly, so she opened her book again and began reading.

Randy opened a book of his own, but before he could turn more than a few pages, Joan jumped to her feet, dumping her book on the floor. "Something's wrong. I can feel it. I'm all, sick to my stomach or something."

Anya rushed over to her. "What's wrong," she asked anxiously. "Is it something with the shop?"

"No." Joan looked around, not really seeing her surroundings. "It's something...by where we were earlier. Randy, do you remember where we were when we saw that truck? I feel, queasy vibes, sort of, coming from that way."

He put his book aside and got up. "What sort of queasy vibes, love? Are we talking bad nachos, or bad guys?"

Joan groaned. "Bad *guys*. Coming from that area. I *told* you that bad guys are always in the industrial area of dumpy towns like this."

"Yeah but, pet, you also told me those guys were just working joes looking for overtime." She glared at him and he relented. "Okay, okay. You were right. Let's be off, then. Grab some weapons. You have to carry the holy water. I'm not getting near that stuff." He pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it in the corner. "Bloody stupid outfit, this. Can't fight in a vest and tie. I need something better."

Rupert crossed to the back room and returned carrying a tattered black wool coat. "Perhaps this would work," he said, holding the coat out to Randy. "It's a bit ragged but it should cover you well enough from the sunlight." 

Randy accepted the coat and put it on. "Thanks, Pop. Have you got anything I could cover my head with?"

Anya rummaged behind the counter and pulled out a thin dust cover. "Maybe this?" She handed it to Rupert, careful to stay out of Randy's reach.

Rupert passed the sheet to Randy, who checked it and nodded. "Ought to help. Thanks." To Joan, he added, "Come on, then, ducks, lead the way." He mock-saluted Rupert and Anya as Joan grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the sewer tunnel entrace in the back.

They walked through the tunnels, guided by Joan's ephemeral gut feelings. Every so often she'd decide that the queasiness was either increasing or decreasing and adjust their direction accordingly. It took them half an hour for Joan to psychically intuit a destination which was five minutes away by sidewalk, but Randy didn't complain. It was, after all, not entirely wasted. He could always watch her sexy little walk.

They stopped abruptly when Joan clutched her stomach and moaned theatrically. "Ugh. I think I'm going to heave." Randy took her arm and she relaxed a little. "I think we're here."

He sniffed the air and nodded his agreement. "I think so. I can smell the same thing I smelled earlier. I think it's blood." She punched him on the arm and he yelled. "Hey, what'd you do that for?" 

"Why didn't you tell me you smelled blood?"

He rubbed his arm and scowled at her. "You're strong, you know it? -- I didn't tell you because I didn't think it was blood. I'm still not sure. I haven't actually had any, you know, at least not since our memories were wiped." 

"Oh." She relented a little. "I guess you're right. You would have told me if you knew what it was."

"Damn right I would've," he muttered. "I guess we know who the sadistic member of this little relationship is. -- Hey!" She punched him again. "Stop that." He put his hand on her shoulder and spun her around into his arms, and kissed her thoroughly. Joan responded enthusiastically, cozying closer to him as though trying to climb inside him, and he had to set her at arm's length when she broke for air after a minute. He stared at her. "I think I believe it now. No way we wouldn't be shagging like rabbits with that kind of chemistry if it wasn't for some sort of outside interference." 

Joan smiled, hair mussed and looking well-kissed. "Was that for luck?"

"I think it was to get you to quit punching me, love. Wanna punch me so I can do that again?" He leered at her teasingly.

She ran her fingers through her hair, combing it back in place. "Maybe later. We have bad guy ass to kick right now." She gestured to the wire-rung ladder set in the side of the sewer tunnel wall. "I think this is where we get off."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's somewhere else...oh, you meant, ah, never mind. Right you are. Let's head up."

She lifted an eyebrow at him as she grasped the rungs. "Hornball."

"The best of them," he rejoined, watching her ascend the ladder. She pushed the manhole cover aside and climbed out, and he adjusted the jacket and slung Anya's dust cover over his head and neck before climbing up into the street above. She pointed at the factory door and they ran for it, Randy's coat starting to smoulder in the bright sunlight before they reached the door and Joan kicked it in. They ran inside, stakes at the ready-- 

--and the factory was empty. Completely empty.

Joan looked around. "I don't understand. I can feel it, still." She rubbed her belly. "It _sucks_, Randy."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed distractedly. "Oh, Joan, of course they're not in here. Look at those windows." High above, the old factory's windows, originally used for ventilation, were shattered and letting in a great deal of sunlight. The spot where they stood, near the front door, was shadowed, but most of the floor was bright, if not in direct sunlight. Randy pointed at a sliding door in the floor, in the brightest patch of sunlight. "You're going to have to open it. I can't help, I'll go up in flames if I stand in that light long enough to get that door open."

Joan nodded. "No problemo." She grabbed his face and planted a quick kiss on his lips, then broke for the sunlight. She walked around the door, looking for the opening mechanism. She froze suddenly, hearing voices just under the door. She held a finger to her lips, and Randy nodded understanding. She crouched down and put her ear to the trapdoor.

"--boss, they're hungry. You wouldn't let them hunt last night and now you've got four humans trapped in there with them. It's gettin' low on morale in there. If you let them share the boy and the two older girls, then kept the Slayer's sister to use for bait, they might calm down." Pause. "Yeah. I know that it's only a few hours left of day until they can hunt, but they're hungry now--." Another pause, then a sigh. Obviously she was hearing one side of a phone conversation. "All right, boss. I won't let them have any of them." 

Joan got up and ran back over to Randy, as quietly as she could manage without scuffing her feet on the floor. "They've got the others. They're talking about using them for bait, for something, I don't know. Apparently the henchmen vamps are all hungry, the guy I heard was trying to get the boss to let them eat three of the hostages. Just leaving...," her voice faded out. "Just leaving Dawn. We gotta get in there and get them out." She turned to rush back to the door, but Randy grabbed her arm. "What?"

"We can't go in there. They outnumber us. We have to get them up here." He gestured at the sunlight. "We have enough of a weapon up here without even raising a finger, if we can just get them to rush out into the light."

Joan looked around and nodded. "You're right." She started pacing the perimeter. She returned after one circuit and said wistfully, "I wish we had some curtains. If we did, we could cover all the windows and make them think it was dark, then when they came out to go hunting, we could yank down the curtains and burn 'em all."

"Maybe we have something we can use for curtains." Randy pointed to a pile of tarps in the corner, buried with some moldy-looking rope. Joan's eyes lit up and she ran over to inspect them. He followed more slowly, still avoiding the sunlight.

She shook one tarp out experimentally, releasing a noxious cloud of dust. She muffled a cough against her arm. "Will it work, do you think?"

He nodded. "I think it will, if we can figure out a way to get it tied up there, and pull them all down simultaneously."

"No problem. I am the mother of invention. Or necessity. Or something." She wrinkled her nose and muffled another cough as the tarps released more dust. "Ew."

They managed to jury-rig a contraption that shaded the room from most of the light, and at her signal, Randy could yank a rope and the whole works would fall to the ground, covering him and letting in the broad sunlight. The last detail was the bait -- how to get the vamps to come rushing out on to the main floor. Joan decided that the only way was to make the vamps think she'd done what they decided not to do: rush in and pretend to panic when there were so many, then run back up and hope they chased her. So, she waited for Randy to get in position with the rope, and when he gave her a nod, she pushed the door open with all her considerable strength and then ran down the stairs. 

"All right, you fiends! Where are my friends? Turn them over and nobody gets hurt!" Randy heard Joan's voice echo in the tunnel. "Aiee! Don't hurt me!" Followed by her footsteps coming up the stairs. She bounded out of the stairwell and skidded to a halt on the dirty cement floor, losing her balance on her twisted ankle and falling on her butt. A mass of angry, hungry vamps boiled out of the stairwell after her. She scooted on her rear away from them, holding up her hands in mock panic. Twenty or thirty vamps filled the room and she signalled Randy to pull the rope.

And nothing happened.

She whipped around to see Randy standing, with a slack bit of rope in his hands. He shrugged his shoulders. The rope they'd used for the jury-rigged curtain contraption had broken halfway up. Meanwhile, the vamps were advancing on her.

Joan jumped to her feet and began to retreat, trying to work her way around to where she could slide the trap door shut and trap the vamps upstairs until Randy could get the curtains down. 

One enterprising vamp approached her, snarling. "So, Slayer. You're not so big and brave after all, are you? Running away just 'cause we outnumber you by a whole lot." He smirked and lunged towards her. She backed up and almost lost her footing again, calling for Randy to hurry up. The vamp ignored him, and the others followed suit, shuffling towards her en masse.

"Heads up!" Randy yelled. His words caught the vamps' collective attention and most of them turned to look for the source of the sound; at the same time, he tugged on the torn bit of rope remaining of the curtain pull, and the curtains fell. Sunlight poured in, dust motes twirling lightly in the beams as, below, the vamps screamed and began to burn. Those not in the immediate sunlight quickly caught from the torches made of their former comrades, and within a few minutes, the entire conflagration had dusted. Randy stood next to the wall, safely in shadow, smiling. "Good job, Joan."

Joan smiled back at him. "Good job, Randy." She dusted deceased vampire remains off of her outfit, then walked over to him. "Let's head in." They strode back to the door, which he wrenched open, and she led the way downstairs. 

"Joan!" Dawn shrieked as soon as she spotted them, conveniently revealing their presence to the bad guys. The lead vampire, dressed in a natty suit and tie, looked up and smiled.

"Ah, the Slayer has arrived." He strolled over to the cage in which the four prisoners were being held, and reached in to stroke Dawn's long hair. Dawn flinched and whimpered. He released her, and Tara hugged her reassuringly. Alex stood on the other side, holding on to the bars and regarding the milling vampire minions, while Willow sat between him and Tara, seemingly concentrating on something.

Joan walked confidently into the middle of the room, stopping between the leader and the vamps, with Randy covering her back. Her voice echoed in the underground chamber when she spoke.

"All right, what gives? I've only got so much time to go around, you know, and I've got a hair appointment at six."

In response, the lead vamp approached her. She refused to give ground, so he walked until he was standing right in front of her, and reached out to touch her face. She smacked his hand away.

"You want to fight, we'll fight, but keep out of my personal space, Sparky." 

He smiled. "I don't want to fight, Slayer. I want you to die." He signalled and the remaining vamps rushed her.

Inside the cage, Dawn screamed again and buried her head against Tara's shoulder. 

Joan and Randy whipped around, dusting vamps as quickly as they could. Within only a few minutes, they were covered in dust, and only the lead vampire, who had stayed far from the fight, remained. He snarled at Joan angrily.

Joan stepped forward to confront him. He tried to sidle past her, but Randy put out an arm, leaning against the wall and blocking his way. "Going somewhere, mate?" 

He roared in frustration and charged, trying to headbutt him and knock him down. Randy punched him in the gut and, when he bent over in pain, slammed a stake through his back, straight into the heart. He exploded into a cloud of dust.

Joan ran over to the cage and began trying to figure out how to get the others out. Alex pointed out a key, hanging on a wall. "Guys, these were seriously the most untalented bad guys I've ever seen in my life. And from the way I'm somehow not surprised at being locked in a cage, I'm guessing I've seen a lot." 

Willow nodded, as Joan unlocked the cage. "Yeah, these guys obviously never got that email about the '50 Things I Would Not Do If I Was An Evil Overlord.' They even told us what they were doing, while we were locked in here." She climbed out last, and hugged Alex as soon as they were out. 

Dawn hugged Joan desperately, who patted her hair reassuringly. "Yeah! They were loading that truck with smuggled booze. Can you believe it? This was all some sort of lame plot to avoid paying sales tax on liquor for the vamp bar that guy was running in Monterey."

Randy laughed out loud. "What a poofter."

Joan perked up. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you. What the hell _is_ a poofter? It just sounds silly."

"Come on, let's go get some coffee. I'll tell you all about poofters." He slung an arm around her waist and led her towards the stairs, whispering things that made her laugh, but speaking too low for the others to hear.

As she turned to follow the others out, something lying on the floor of the cage caught Tara's eye. She wandered over and picked it up, turning it in her hands curiously. It was a black crystal point, sides slick with soot that came off on her fingers. She rubbed two fingers together and wrinkled her nose at the black goo on them. She tucked it in her pocket, unsure of exactly why she did so, but unable to drop the crystal.

The sextet walked back to the Magic Box, unrestrained by the sewer path now that dusk had fallen and it was safe for Randy to be outside. Joan and Randy led the group, walking side by side and occasionally saying something to one another or laughing conspiratorially. Willow and Alex walked with their hands linked, and Dawn bobbed around them. Tara brought up the rear of the group, thinking about that crystal and trying to figure out why it bothered her so much.

They arrived quickly, and found Giles and Anya still inside, researching side by side. Anya looked up and greeted them. "You're all alive! How surprising and pleasant."

Joan looked at her. "Yep, we're peachy. Piece of cake. Any luck with the booking?"

Anya smiled prettily. "No, but we did successfully eliminate at least a couple books as unhelpful." She gestured at a pile sitting on the corner. Alex, Willow, Dawn, and Tara trooped over to flop down in various chairs around the research area. "So, you don't need to bother with those. They're also almost uniformly so boring that you want to start lighting things on fire just to see some variety."

"I-I found something," Tara volunteered. She dug the crystal out of her pocket and held it out to Rupert and Anya. 

Rupert took the gem and looked at it closely. "Interesting. It looks like quartz but, of course, it's not crystalline, but black. I believe I saw a reference to this in one of the books." He pulled a volume over and began reading. Anya offered the others tea. 

Randy pulled Joan aside, and they went into the back room, which was decked out as some sort of training area. Joan looked around, eyes wide. "Check it out! We've even got our own little dojo to practice in. This is so cool!" She went to walk over to a punching bag, but before she could make it, Randy came up behind her and tugged her hand. She turned around, and he caught her in his arms. 

"That was fun," he murmured. "We'll have to do that again some time."

She smiled up at him. "I'm glad you were there, Randy. It's fun being a superhero with you. We work so well together, we must have been doing this for years."

He ran his fingers through her hair, gently working out the tangles that had come about during the vamp fight, and she snuggled up next to him. She turned her face up, and he leaned in to kiss her.

* * *

In the main room, the four recent abductees and Anya were chatting quietly about the vamps. Anya nodded sagely about the tax-dodge attempt. 

Rupert clapped a hand down to the table. "I've found it," he exclaimed. "It says quite clearly in this text that a visible artifact of one spell is a quartz crystal turned black with soot, both physical and psychic, from the burning of a certain herb said to invoke forgetfulness. It seems like a rather dark spell, mind-control and such. All we have to do to end the spell, it claims, is to smash the crystal." Six pairs of eyes looked at the crystal that Rupert held in his outstretched hand. He lifted his gaze and looked at the others.

* * *

Joan wrapped her arms around Randy and smiled against his cheek, pushing his ratty old coat off his arms and onto the mat. She ran her hands over his back as he held her close. "You know," she whispered, "I think I love you too."

He kissed her again, just as, outside, Rupert shattered the crystal.

Buffy collapsed in his arms, pulling him down onto the mat with her. Spike tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He abruptly opened his arms and she fell back onto the mat with a thump. Buffy lay there like stone, staring at the ceiling.

"Oh my god," he whispered. He turned to look at her. "Buffy, are you all right?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He could see that her earlier natural optimism and joy were gone, replaced with a dull sort of painful disbelief. She blinked and it was gone, replaced by an emotionless expression. She climbed to her feet and began to walk to the door to the main room, carefully placing each footstep as though to do otherwise would knock her world atilt on its axis.

"Buffy," Spike called out. He slowly got to his feet as well, and she stopped walking. "Buffy, are you okay?" He took began to step towards her but stopped when she spoke.

Her voice was sorrowful and quiet. "No, I'm not all right. I'm not sure if I'll be all right ever again." She resumed walking towards the main room of the Magic Box, and Spike followed after her, wordless.

* * *


End file.
